Dead and Gone
by Nancy Nix
Summary: It has been twenty years that Joker had been dead. Batman no longer exists and Bruce no longer know what to do with his life. It is the first chapter, and it it goes end to beginning, and back and forth. yaoi warning


Dead and Gone

_By Nancy Nix_

_I hope you like this it's a Batman Joker yaoi so if you don't like them leave. Also its goes backwards in time so it will start at the end and go back. Hope you like it I'm not all that good at writing so don't be to mean. Also I have references to Clare Napier's stories and my other story. Hopw you like it. Also it's really sad so please tell me what you think about it. _

_Nancy Nix_

"Twenty years ago today." Bruce said as he walked to the destroyed church. The walls were hardly still standing and there was almost no roof to speak of. Carefully he made his way inside; his black cane already was getting covered in soot and ash. The dust bringing up old memories. On a normal day he would have pushed them away, but today he let them flow into his head. All the battles that never got anywhere. All the innocent people that got hurt. Barb, Commissioner Gordon, Nightwing, the civilians. Everyone was a target. Everyone and no one at the same time. Joker wasn't to picky when it came to his victims. As long as it brought the two of them closer together.

Bruce stopped at the large organ that sat rusted broken at the front alter. Joker had lover to play that strange thing. He said that once he wanted a piano for his birthday, or a kiss goodnight. Batman didn't give him either. No. Batman showed no emotion, he would be ruined if there was any emotion in his line of work. No matter how hard he tried, I mush have shone. Some way, some how. And now all that he cared for was dead and gone.

Carefully he ran his fingers on the dusty keys, hearing the instrument cough and wheeze in its old age. His eyes met with a dented pipe. The one he made just a few months before that day. When he aimed high so not to hurt Joker, never to harm Joker. It had left a dent; he never really looked if he had damaged that pipe. He wanted the attention, he loved the attention. Maybe that's why Joker loved to get his attention so much. Because he liked it?

Shaking his head Bruce stiffly walked over to what was the main area of the long white hallway. The walls where gone now and there were no doors except for one. Jokers' personal room. Somehow it was mostly still ok. Only the wall that was in the hallway was now gone but everything else was still in place. The closet, the drawer, and that half broken stained-glass window. He wondered. Did it still hold that message? The one that Batman had left because he finally showed emotion to someone for the first time? Doing his best not to kick up as much dust then what was already in his mouth; he made his way to the window. Squinting and blowing away the top layer of dust he searched for his message. It wasn't there.

Sighing and backing away disappointed Bruce sat on a near by box. This short little walk had already gotten him tired. He wasn't thirty any more. He was fifty-six, with bad knees, shoulders, wrists, and getting heart failure. His life was limited and he knew it. Joker would have never let him self get old. Joker was to be young forever. Lucky bastard. Sighing again for letting his mind wander, Bruce pulled out a vile of pills. Shaking, he slowly opened it and took out four pills. He was only meant to have two pills every eight hours but who the hell do those doctors think they are? Quickly he shoved the pills into his mouth and swallowed.

Dissatisfied, He looked up to the sky though the hole in the ceiling. It was starting to get dark; he had to leave soon to go to that stupid meeting to see who will win the most of his fathers' money. He brought his gaze to a drawer in the corner. It was faded but could be clearly seen that it was purple and neon green. Shaking his head and laughing a little Bruce got up to see what was in it. Praying that it was one of Jokers gas tricks that would finally end his life on this lonely miserable planet, it was so much colder here without Joker.

Pulling with all his might, Bruce broke off the handle of the drawer. Sending him backwards into a pile of boxes. Jack-n-the-box heads landed on his lap as he groaned in pain. He could hear Joker laughing at him for falling for such a cheep trick.

"I'm too old for your tricks Joker. I need to know why you did that. I have to know or I won't be able to sleep a peaceful night ever again. I have to know Joker. Batman has to know." Cracking as he got up, Bruce went again to the drawer. This time a large flat piece of wood ready to pry it open. Shoving it into a crack. Bruce wiggled it around trying his best to open the drawer. Splinters broke off in his hands as he moved the wood around. Blood trickled to the floor and pain shot up his hands. To determined to let go or stop he kept on going. Bruce would have stopped long ago, Bruce would have never heard of this place. But Batman wouldn't. Batman never stopped, he wouldn't give up.

Snap! The wood broke though to inside the drawer and it was now open for him to see. Happily he looked inside to see what where the remains of Joker. What was left of him for his Batman? His scent filled the room. That beautiful smell that Bruce had caught the day he was outside by the steps. Reaching in he found a black batarang, it was once broken but it looked like Joker had used Elmer's' glue to put it back together. Bruce laughed and reached in again. His hand met cold metal, and he grabbed hold of it to pull it out. A gun. Bruce stared at it for what seamed like days to him. A fake? A real one? Was it loaded? Or was it empty? He knew that Joker sometimes carried guns that were empty before. He brought the cold steal closer to him. What if this was what he was looking for? Only once had Bruce held a gun before. And Batman never touched one.

He opened the barrel. Full. Joker had left him a fully loaded gun. Maybe he could still see him again. In another world? Joker of all people might go to hell. Batman for sure would go to hell. He had killed before. He had killed on purpose. He brought the gun to the side of his head. Shaking he put it back down as he sat down on the boxes.

"I can't do it Joker. I'm not strong enough. Never have been the mask always hid so much. So many feelings." As quick as he could Bruce shoved four more pills into him mouth and she chewed them up. He could hear joker laughing again.

"Hahahahahahaaa, Bruce Wane? What are you doing here? That gun isn't for you. It's for my beloved Batsy. Have you seen him? I've been waiting for a while now."

He sounded so close, so real. Bruce reached into his large coat pocket, feeling the Batman mask. Why had he brought it? It was a feeling that he had. "Joker turn around, I'll tell Batman to come. But you can't look. He wants it to be a surprise." He smiled as he talked to the invisible Joker in the room.

"Oh goodie! I love surprises!" Was all that he could hear before he placed the mask on. Things felt different. "Batsy!" He could hear Joker say. "Come one Batsy, I know you have the guts. I've been waiting for soooooooo long. You know how boring it is in this place?"

Batman got up gun in his hands. "Hay Joker."

"Hmm?"

"I'll give you your birthday present tonight." A smiled spread across his wrinkled face.

"Really! You got me a piano! Batsy you shouldn't have!"

"No, Ill do you one better then a piano. I'll give you a goodnight kiss." Batman cocked the gun at his head.

"I never told you this Batsy, but you know I love you." Tears ran down Batman's face as he smiled.

"Me too Joker."

Headlines read. Bruce Wane killed him self last night. He had begun to see things and hear things a he overdosed on him meds. Thinking that he was Batman he was found with a loaded gun in the old Church on top of Napier Loop. A Batman mask on, and joker dolls surrounded him. He was loved by many and will be missed dearly.


End file.
